The Tree and the Vine

by Dola de Jong, Lillian Faderman (Afterword)

This courageous early work of lesbian fiction (1951) tells the gripping story of two women torn between desires and taboos in the years leading up to the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam. Erica, a reckless young journalist, pursues passionate but abusive affairs with different women. Bea, a reserved secretary, grows increasingly obsessed with Erica —yet denial and shame keep her from recognizing her attraction. Only Bea’s discovery that Erica is half-Jewish and a member of the Dutch resistance—and thus very much in danger—brings her closer to accepting her own feelings.

Genres: Fiction, LGBT, Queer, Historical Fiction, Classics, Romance, Lesbian

152 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1954

About the author

Dorothea Rosalie de Jong (Arnhem, 1911 – Laguna Woods/ Californië, 2003), schreef kinderboeken, romans, korte verhalen en reisverhalen voor onder meer De Telegraaf, Het Vaderland, De Groene Amsterdammer en het Algemeen Handelsblad. Haar roman Dans om het hart (1939) over de Amsterdamse danswereld, gebaseerd op haar eigen danscarrière, wordt als haar literaire debuut beschouwd. In 1954 publiceerde zij De thuiswacht, een roman over liefde tussen twee vrouwen. Haar in het Engels geschreven thrillerachtige roman The Whirligig of Time (1964) werd in de Verenigde Staten bekroond met de Edgar Allan Poe Award en door haarzelf in het Nederlands vertaald onder de titel De draaitol van de tijd (1965). Ook veel van haar oorspronkelijk in de Verenigde Staten gepubliceerde kinderboeken werden in het Nederlands vertaald, zoals Begin maar opnieuw (1961), Het geheimzinnige huis (1962) en De ander en jezelf (1963).

Reviews

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 3 out of 5]

‘For me, that’s where the war began, in Erica’s room.’

For every story of love there are also stories of hardship love must endure to survive. The Tree and the Vine, written in 1952 by Dutch author Dola de Jong had to overcome many of its own struggles in order to bring this beautiful story of love to light. Despite her established success, de Jong’s novel of two women in Amsterdam grappling with emotional entanglements at the outbreak of WWII was deemed “shameless” and “unpublishable”. It took the intervention of many friends and her American editors to finally bring de Jong’s story of the reserved Bea and her more erratic roommate Erica to print. Now with Kristen Geherman’s exquisite new translation, readers can once again experience what de Jong called her favorite novel. While much of the novel may feel less-than-original by modern standards and the sexuality is so delicately mentioned that many could miss it entirely and only focus on the vague accusations of poor morals thrown at Erica, this book is more than just an artifact from LGBTQ+ literary history and shines as an elegant and deeply emotive psychological novel of frustrated emotions beset by the chaos and threats of violence from war.

‘Things aren’t fairly distributed in the world.’

Erica and Bea are wonderfully dynamic characters and Bea’s narration hums with such potent insight and emotion despite a sparse and direct prose style. Narrated over a decade after the events, there is a tenderness in her telling that betrays remorse as much as fondness as Bea has yet to fully detangle and digest her feelings for Erica and what has transpired. There is a shadow that looms over the novel with ominous interjections from the present juxtaposed with what Bea understood of Erica at the time. ‘Those early days with Erica were a mystery to me,’ Bea reflects. Erica tells tragic life stories but always with an air of humor that Bea cannot comprehend. ‘There’d come a time when Erica wouldn’t be able to see the humor in all this anymore, but that wasn’t until much later.’ While Bea’s accounts of events initially show Erica as lighthearted, full of energy and always eager for what comes next, she juxtaposes this with insinuations that Erica is a tragic figure which builds for a perfectly unstable emotional tone to the novel that compels the reader forwards the way Erica pulls Bea along the streets to theaters and bars. The reader is quickly as engulfed and overwhelmed by the ominous feverish tone as young Bea was in her feelings towards the enigmatic Erica.

‘Even now, with my broader understanding of humanity,’ Bea ruminates on her friend, ‘I wonder whether what I took to be a tree growing off in the distance wasn’t in face a lifeless trunk, its own leave strangled by the vines growing up around it.’ While Erica isn’t the most original character one will encounter, Bea’s feelings for her are sure to attach her into your own heart. Erica is a character who tempts fate and pushes headlong into life always in the extremes. She dates women who fight violently with her, she drinks heavily, wages a vicious war of attrition on Bea’s boyfriend to drive him away and get sole custody of her roommate back, and moves at a pace that has Bea always pleading for her to slow down. Later on there are scenes reminiscent of something from Fitzgerald with poor yet elegantly dressed artist types drinking in dilapidated apartments, but through Bea’s eyes all the drunken joy has drained from the frame to reveal a depressed and painful scene of people living out their anxieties as if to more quickly snuff out their lives. Destined for self-destruction, it would seem. de Jong's tender examination of Erica makes it easy to empathize with her, especially as fragments of insight into the mystery of her childhood are slowly pieced together.

‘Maybe I knew I’d been trying to save a sinking ship.”

Bea cares for Erica, literally and emotionally. When the Nazi’s finally come, Bea attempts to help Erica flee, her being half-Jewish. The world events feel very peripheral, however, with Bea’s feeling for Erica always remaining forefront. The war is still felt all around, particularly through it's reverberations in society. People are fleeing while others are joining the Nazis, such as Erica's own mother becoming a party member and asking to give Hitler a chance because she thinks he will save the European economy. Much of the book is Bea in the present still trying to process her feelings, all of which are still tinged with shame and guilt having grown up in a society that viewed same-sex sexuality as a immoral. She never fully accepts what is felt between them, but it is there despite de Jong’s very light references to it.

’I couldn’t make out what she said and she had to repeat it.She never spoke those few words again. It wasn’t necessary. We both knew they were irrevocable and would last forever. We’ve accepted it, each in our own way.’

The delicate touches of love amidst the maelstroms of grief, anger, jealousy, and fear are truly moving. This is a book that crawled so that later LGBTQ+ novels could walk and run. The ending is tragic leaving the reader confronting a void as the novel abruptly ends much like those in wartime find themselves looking at the voids created in their own lives. This is also why it is important that now, with the privilege of LGBTQ+ characters becoming more normalized in fiction, books can depict their lives and loves without it having to be some monumental or tragic event in order to justify telling them and simply let people exist in the pages because they exist.

The Tree and the Vine is a lovely and bittersweet little novel that I am happy to have discovered through this new translation. It is a beautiful piece of history and contains an powerful dynamic between its two heroines. Erica and Bea will definitely reside in my mind and heart from here on out.

3.5/5

[Henk · Rating 3 out of 5]

More interesting as a document of the frantic time before The Netherlands were invaded in the Second World War than as a full fledged lesbian love novel
... and I submitted, resignedly and with great reluctance.

I've read The Tree and the Vine in Dutch and found it quite easy to read in terms of language, you do note some phrases which are no longer in use but since Dola de Jong doesn't seem to be very flourishing in her style the impact of time seems limited.
The English title is more apt than the Dutch one, which only covers Bea, the narrator staying at home waiting, while Erica is out and about. The English title evokes a suffocating relationship between two people, potentially fatal, and captures the feel of the book much better.

I must say that the level of obliqueness, and the way Bea manages not to say a lot of things, made me feel sometimes as if I was reading a Kazuo Ishiguro novel. Remains of the Days (with a narrator helping someone with non-pure intentions) and Never Let Me Go (with young people recounting their lives and living towards something dreadful) both came to mind in that sense.

I was rather annoyed with Bea overall, she seems such a pushover. I still can't fully understand why she would be so dedicated to Erica or conversely, why she would make her choice for Bea.
The end is very sudden, feels rushed in a sense. An interesting book as a document of a strange time nonetheless, and the author had a fascinating live as well and deserves more recognition in the Dutch canon.

Dutch quote:
Het is toch immers zo, dat de oorlog dikwijls een alibi of uitweg biedt voor de mens in het nauw, die zelf geen redding of toekomst meer ziet en die stilletjes op een catastrofe van buitenaf hoopt om een eind te maken aan de onhoudbare toestand waarin hij zich bevindt.

[Doug · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5, rounded up.

This has really more historical interest than being a compelling story in itself, or having any great literary value (although it's somewhat hard to say, since it's translated - although this new translation itself seems smooth and entirely adequate). Perhaps it's a question of expectation, since the synopsis makes it sound much more of a romance - it's basically about two women who meet casually through a mutual acquaintance, decide to room together, and then one (Erica) dominates the other (narrator Bea), and treats her like the doormat she is.

Erica is so unpleasant it is hard to fathom why Bea puts up with her (another character even calls her a pushover). It eventually transpires that Erica is actively pursuing lesbian relationships with other women (and rubbing it in Bea's face), while Bea slowly (VERY slowly) becomes aware that perhaps her obsession with Erica might be due to the same proclivities on her part. But it is all so 'coded' and oblique as not to be of much interest - and when the inevitable conclusion comes via the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam, the ending is so rushed, it doesn't have much impact.

Apparently, the book was quite scandalous when it was first published in the year of my birth (1954), but it is really quite tame nowadays. It is a quick read, but I can't say I was ever more than mildly invested in it.

[Ruben · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Dutch novella from 1954 that initially remained unpublished due to its shameless nature. Unfortunately, it proved not to be shameless at all :)

It is about two young women rooming together and developing feelings for one another, but unable to talk about them. One woman is the caring type, always at home making sure the house is clean and there is food on the table. The other is restless, wreckless and often out the entire doing who knows what.

For the first 100 pages I felt this is more of historical interest than literary interest. It often felt like an exercise in writing. However, the last 30 pages changed my mind and ultimately I find it a very accomplished novella. The two characters seem to moving in circles and it slowly becomes clear that the only way their destructive rhythm is broken has to be the looming war.

Very glad this was brought to my attention by @Royce.

[Matthew · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Tree and the Vine was originally published in Holland in 1954 and is being released in a wonderful new English translation by Transit Books. The story takes place in the late 1930's run-up to the German invasion of the Netherlands.

Our narrator Bea is relating the events of the novel from a remove of a couple of decades. Bea is a shy and repressed young office employee who meets Erica through a mutual friend. The two become roommates and form a close but sometimes ineffably strained friendship. Erica is impulsive and often reckless and leads an exciting life. Bea, for her part, is unable or unwilling to admit why she is becoming so obsessed with Erica.

Revolutionary for its time, this book is a marvel. The writing is spare and elegant and there is so much more in the subtext than on the page, such depth of feeling just below the surface. Highly recommended.

[Tanja · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dola de Jong deserves to be rediscovered. This is one of the best books I have read in a long time. It's an outrage that both de Jong's Dutch and American publishers refused to publish it because they were afraid to publish something about lesbian love. I read the Dutch version (she initially wrote the story in Dutch and the Dutch title is De Thuiswacht) and I agree with reviewer Marnix Gijsen, who said this book is a literary masterpiece.

[Mewa · Rating 4 out of 5]

„I nawet teraz, mając za widnokrąg cały krajobraz ludzkiego życia, zadaję sobie pytanie, czy to, co tam w oddali wydawało mi się rosnącym drzewem, nie było przypadkiem martwym pniakiem, którego zieloność została zdławiona przez rosnące wokół chwasty.”

[Jeść treść]

Lek, opatrunek i ukojenie na dosłowności, uproszczenia i nadmierne tłumaczenie czytelnikom świata i relacji między bohaterami. Tu tego nie ma – Dola de Jong gra niedopowiedzeniami i zmusza do prowadzenia literackiego śledztwa na własną rękę. Bo tak naprawdę kim są nasze główne bohaterki? Co je popycha ku sobie? Skąd czerpią swoje motywacje i jak widzą swoje własne miejsce w świecie?
Wszystko to można zebrać z okruszków rozrzuconych tu i tam, ale na gotową interpretację i wykładnię na temat tego, jak ten cały świat pogryźć i przetrawić, nie ma co liczyć.

Bardzo lubię, gdy rzuca mi się podobne intelektualne wyzwania. Będę czekała na kolejne książki tej autorki, które (oby!) zostaną w Polsce wydane. Po "Strażniczce domu" de Jong to dla mnie nazwisko do czytania w ciemno.

[Marta Demianiuk · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,5 ⭐️. Nie mam za wiele przemyśleń po lekturze. Dobrze się tę książkę czytało, pewnie trochę o niej pomyślę i zapomnę. Miejsce w Cymeliach totalnie zasłużone i cieszę się, że dzięki ArtRage ją poznałam, ale nie będzie to moja ulubiona powieść z serii. Bardziej jak „przeczytałam coś holenderskiego, fajnie”.

[Alwynne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lesbian pulp fiction was a bestselling genre in the 50s; between lurid covers otherwise taboo subjects were served up as cautionary tales, in which transgressive women had one of three options, “marriage, insanity or suicide.” Patricia Highsmith’s The Price of Salt (Carol) was a notable departure, a romantic, literary exploration of two women’s developing relationship. Reissued in a new translation, Dola de Jong’s The Tree and the Vine’s been compared to Highsmith’ landmark novel so I expected something similar but the only hint of Highsmith was the faint trace of the kind of self-deceiving character common to her trademark, psychological crime.

The Tree and the Vine’s narrated by Bea, WW2’s over, and exiled Bea’s still troubled by her past relationship with Erica,

“Here in America, I’ve had my share of adventures but nothing has ever become of them. In my life, men have always been like shadows waiting in the wings. There was never room for them on stage because Erica held the spotlight.”

Right from the start there’s something unsettling about Bea’s story of life with Erica. They’re in Amsterdam, it’s the late 1930s, rumours of war are circulating but Bea’s so fixated on Erica, what Erica does, where Erica goes, who Erica sees, that the outside world barely registers. They’re an unlikely pairing, as Bea continually highlights: her comfortable moneyed background versus Erica’s ‘messy’, working-class upbringing; Bea’s conventionally feminine style versus Erica’s boyish crop and “socialist youth” dress sense. But despite, or maybe precisely because of their differences, Bea rents an apartment with Erica less than a month after they meet.

All individual versions of events are partial but Bea’s is particularly contradictory, there are odd gaps in her account undermining her credibility, she mentions a long hospital stay just before she’s introduced to Erica but doesn’t reveal what it was for; she continually represents herself as Erica’s benefactor, paying for meals and furniture, insisting that a boyfriend includes Erica in their outings. But the impression she creates is vastly different, there’s a claustrophobic, suffocating atmosphere hanging over Bea’s obsessive detailing of Erica’s behaviour, and something overly-controlling about her repeated financial and social interventions. Control seems key to Bea’s entire personality, and much of the narrative hinges on its gradual erosion, for almost half of de Jong’s novel very little seems to happen yet Bea’s increasingly agitated. Although there are repeated clues, it’s only after she spots Erica and another woman with a group that includes ”…a strapping, middle-aged butch woman,” that Bea comes close to admitting what’s causing her emotional turmoil. But then war arrives, and Erica’s half-Jewish heritage and growing political activism raise a different threat to her future with Bea.

The Tree and the Vine’s difficult to characterise, I thought Bea’s initial fascination with Erica often had a disturbing quality, like Frederick stalking Miranda in The Collector. It was only as the war reached Holland that the narrative opened up, although it frequently tips over into melodrama: borrowing from the codes of lesbian pulp as Bea depicts elements of Erica’s conduct as somehow degenerate, implies her love of women’s a pathology resulting from a difficult childhood, and at one point frantically scrubs off the remnants of Erica’s ”aroma of lavender.” But de Jong also suggests that Bea’s ‘policing’ of Erica, mirrors a rigid self-policing, a strategy that’s ultimately aimed at repressing her own desire. And de Jong’s rendering of the traumatic legacy of Bea’s self-denial seemed the most successful aspect of The Tree and the Vine, a conflict that doesn’t cease to haunt Bea, and echoes the real-life conflicts of many woman of her era.

Rating: 3.5

[Tomasz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pięknie napisany obraz skomplikowanych relacji dwóch kobiet w czasach coraz bardziej napiętej sytuacji międzynarodowej. Dla mnie chyba trochę zbyt anegdotyczna i poszarpana, przez co niektóre fragmenty trafiały do mnie znacznie mocniej niż inne. 3,5

[Krzysztof Cieślik · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poruszająca, ładnie rezonuje z Ditlevsen, choć na pierwszy rzut oka to dość prosta proza psychologiczna

[Anna · Rating 2 out of 5]

No cóż …

[TakoTrako · Rating 3 out of 5]

Insane lesbian yearning that was doomed from the very beginning.

[Bandit · Rating 3 out of 5]

An obscure classic of lesbian fiction. Yes, please. I’ve never heard of this book, until our library’s recent commitment to inclusivity has introduced me to it. This is a new translation, but then again it’s all new to me. The title, actually, isn’t an accurate translation and I’m not sure how they came up with it going by the original, which is literally something like Homewait, but tree and vine are context accurate and aptly represent the main relationship of the novel between the two young women. The vine strangles the tree and yet the tree welcomes the vine, not quite symbiotic, more along the lines of sadomasochism, but there you have it, that’s the main dynamic here. Not quite love, more along the lines of a repressed obsession, when a modest unexciting young secretary meets a wild younger thing named Erica and decides to dedicate herself to her. Erica is flighty, noncommittal, mercurial, complicated and moody. It’s difficult to understand the attraction, but it’ there. The two start off as roommates, evolve into sort of best friends, but it’s never a balanced relationship, In fact, Erica casually screws up her best friend’s chance at romance, but has no qualms about having affairs of her own. Erica is romantically and otherwise impetuous and financially challenged. She has a difficult relationship with her mother and an almost nonexistent one with her father, but the latter is a Jew and that becomes increasingly and terrifyingly relevant as WWII dawns on Europe. Her friend, after supporting her financially and emotionally for months and moths is now desperately trying to save her, while Erica has affairs and squanders her chances. It’s difficult to say if it’s the careless stupidity of youth or some sort of a death wish, but either way a terribly dangerous attitude to have for a half Jewish girl in Amsterdam in 1940. So that’s the novel without giving too much away. A book very light in page count and very heavy in context. Then again there’s something inherently wrong with the concept of light war fiction. Easy to see how revolutionary this might have been back in 1951. So from a historical perspective this is great, in fact it’s great as a work of historical fiction in general, it represents the ambiance of the time very well. And as a character drama it’s …well, it’s complicated. The characters are not likeable, at all. One’s too tragic in her obsequious slavish devolution. One is too infuriatingly careless with her life and those around her. And yet the writing is good enough to still draw you in, despite the characters’ shortcomings. It’s a terribly imperfect relationship written terribly well, set in a world gone mad. Interesting read. Definitely worth the time.

[Elwira Księgarka na regale · Rating 5 out of 5]

„Jakoś wkrótce potem, pewnej ciepłej październikowej niedzieli, porównałam ją do ptaka, który nie może nie się , gdzie przysiąść, czy pod dachem domu, gdzie za oknem pojawiają się twarze ludzi, głosy, śmiech, obce dźwięki skłaniające do ostrożności, czy na drzewie, tym albo tamtym, a może na rynnie szopy czy jednak bezpiecznie w lesie. Latanie w tę i we w tę, bojaźliwe drobienie nóżkami, niespokojne trzepotanie skrzydełkami i znów eleganckie szybowanie i zwroty, by zacząć deliberacje od początku.”

Tymi słowami, Bea, narratorka i tytułową postać „Strażniczki domu”, opisuje Erikę, kobietę, z którą na zawsze uwikła swoje losy. Dola De Jong pozostawiła po sobie ponad 20 książek, a mi aż trudno uwierzyć, że w większości były to pozycje dla dzieci i młodzieży, podczas, gdy moją pierwszą lekturą 2024 jest tak dojrzała powieść psychologiczna opisująca zażyłą więź dwóch kobiet skazaną na porażkę. Powieść cenzurowaną, która pomimo swojej powściągliwości, musiała poczekać kilkanaście lat na publikację.

Ta „niewielka” wielka powieść rzuca nas w wir skomplikowanej, często nienazwanej, relacji pomiędzy bohaterkami, której nazwa jedynie pozornie stoi poza nawiasem. Burzliwa Erika, która często wije się jak piskorz w ludzkich relacjach, odlatuje i potem wciąż wraca, jest przeciwieństwem statecznej Bei, która zawsze czeka, zawsze posprząta bałagan Eriki i w całym tym pozornym zniecierpliwieniu, schowa palącą troskę o losy Eriki, w połowie Żydówki. Rodzice autorki i jej brat zginęli w Sobiborze, a ona emigrowała z Holandii ostatecznie do Stanów Zjednoczonych. Choć była krytykowana, że Zagłada nie wybrzmiewa wystarczająco w jej twórczości, to jest to zarzut, z którym nie mogę się zgodzić. „Strażniczka domu” już samym tytułem usiłuje ostrzec czytelniczka, że nie tylko czegoś, ale kogoś będzie trzeba chronić w tej narracji. Cała fabuła za tło posiada groźbę II wojny światowej i niechybnego zagrożenia życia każdej osoby pochodzenia Żydowskiej i osoby, która próbuje jej pomóc.

„Strażniczka domu” to powieść, której człowiek nie chce kończyć, choć jej ascetyczny ton i wartkość akcji wypływający z faktu nieprzewidywalności działań Eriki, sprawia, że czyta się ją sprawnie i szybko. Jeśli jedynym zarzutem wobec powieści jest fakt, iż była ona za krótka, to znaczy, że po prostu zakończyła się we właściwym momencie i dzięki temu utknęła w pamięci na zawsze.

[Marie-Therese · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

Psychologically acute, well-paced, and tightly structured-more a novella than a novel, perhaps.

While this is primarily the rather small-scale story of a dysfunctional relationship between two very different women (one repressed and conventional and the other wildly self-destructive), the gruesome and threatening shadow throughout of Hitler and the German occupation of Holland gives the narrative significant weight and sombreness. De Jong make what I think is both an interesting and astute choice to allow the first-person narrator, Bea, to reflect openly on her past actions and statements as she recounts her tale. This lends the narrative a bittersweet, rueful quality that is very effective and makes Bea a more sympathetic character than she might otherwise be. Because we only see Erica, the wild child, through Bea's eyes, she's less convincing and those parts of the book centered around Erica's escapades sometimes seem slightly hollow, almost as if the reader is feeling the same absence of the character as Bea experiences in the novel.

I don't think this is a "great" novel or even a significant novel, it's most certainly not a "pulp" lesbian novel as some reviewers seem to have hoped, but it is a good book and one well worth reading for those interested in lesbian literature from an earlier era.

[yenni m · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lesbian fiction from 1951. The detail to the leads behaviour, observations and movements when around Erica, the unrealised interest, I wasn't expecting to connect with. I related to feeling drawn to people like this in my own history. Delighted to have quickly noted why this is problematic and is best not encouraged despite confusing brief deliciousness.

[Oliwia (flea_book) · Rating 3 out of 5]

sᴛʀᴀᴢ̇ɴɪᴄᴢᴋᴀ ᴅᴏᴍᴜ to opowieść osadzona w realiach II Wojny Światowej, która jest ważnym tłem kameralnej historii dwóch kobiet. Relacja Bei i Eriki rozwija się powoli i subtelnie. Powieść nie emanuje nadmiarem emocji i seksualności — wszystko jest wyważone i otulone nutą tajemnicy, którą czytelnik sam musi zinterpretować.

Książka zakończona jest dość wnikliwym posłowiem Tłumacza, co daje większy wgląd w całość — uważam to za świetną decyzję, ponieważ czytelnicy mają okazję poznać większy kontekst historyczny i językowy.

Cieszę się, że dzięki Wydawnictwu pojawiają się na naszym rynku często zapomniane dzieła literatury światowej
& jestem bardzo ciekawa innych tytułów z serii Cymelia 🤍

[Lara · Rating 4 out of 5]

there is a deep wound that has opened within me after finishing this book

[Sebastian · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5
Na pewno jest to dobra książka i warto dać tej prozie szansę. Doceniam odwagę autorki, de Jong świetnie buduje napięcie i gra z czytelnikiem w grę zwaną "domyśl się" w sposób absolutnie mistrzowski.
Niemiłosiernie mnie drażniły pretensjonalne dialogi i postawa narratorki.

[Jen Tidman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Originally (and controversially) published in 1951, but newly released in English, this Dutch novella tells the story of repressed desire and manipulation between two young women in Amsterdam, in the run up to WWII.

Bea, a straitlaced secretary meets Erica, a wild and rebellious journalist, and the two decide to rent an apartment together. Whilst Erica has a series of abusive yet passionate affairs with other women, Bea grows increasingly jealous and obsessive, although unable to admit to her attraction and desire, through taboo and shame.

As Nazi occupation of Holland becomes more likely, Bea encourages half-jewish Erica to leave the country, but instead finds she's involved in the resistance movement...

Although interesting from a cultural and political perspective and as a piece of LGBTQ history, the writing is very much of its time and from a modern standpoint the interactions between the characters are frustrating, which sadly makes it a fairly middle of the road read with what feels like a rushed and abrupt end.

[texas · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read this book only if you want to spend at least a week re-thinking everything about your worst relationship and wondering which one was worse: yours or the one in the book. But.... maybe that means it’s a good book??? I have no clue.

[Raven · Rating 4 out of 5]

”To be honest, I was more worried about her actions than her ancestry. She couldn’t compromise, make the best of it, and try to stay out of harm’s way like the majority of the population. The circumstances of her life were too unusual for that. She had constructed her raison d’être piece by piece, and her only hope for future happiness was to challenge fate, which had always been her sworn enemy.”

I don’t think that I’ve ever read a book that explores interpersonal relationships the way that Dola de Jong does in The Tree and the Vine. I’ve certainly never read a book that allows readers to get a glimpse of the inner lives of two women who have a relationship that is intimate and sexually charged, yet not sexual (and loving/tender, but with boundaries that are arbitrarily imposed and blurred as the relationship propels itself forward).

And the relationship between Erica and her mother! What the hell? This is a short novella and that particular relationship is only a subplot, but de Jong made a feast from flour.

I always feel strange declaring that something was a wonderful translation; I don’t speak Dutch, so I have no idea. But Kristen Gehrman’s prose reads so easily and beautifully. Her goal was to give the English translation a frenetic vibe, and she definitely did. Even the translator’s note was a joy to read!

Lastly, I’m enamored of Dola de Jong’s style (though I can see how some might think of it as overwrought), of how aspects of her characters mirror aspects of her own personality and experience, and of this wonderful exploration of shame/desire that was originally published in 1954. I’m a bit disheartened that her other work, And the Field is the World is not available to me in translation. However, The Tree and the Vine will stick with me for a while, and I’m grateful for that.

[Royce · Rating 4 out of 5]

This little book was not what I expected based on the short review I read about it before actually reading it. It was written in the 1950’s and recently translated into English. It tells the story of two young women living together in Amsterdam at the start of WWII, about 1940, before The Netherlands was invaded by the Nazis. Erica and Bea live together as roommates but there is more to their story/relationship. Bea, the narrator struggles with describing her true feelings for Erica.

This will be my first buddy read with a few other Goodreads’ people, so I’m curious to see what they think/feel about it.

[Linda Duits · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Maar ik had niets dan de borrelende, schuimende oppervlakte afgespoeld, in het geheimzinnige kratermeer durfde ik niets te verstoren. Ik kocht mijn zielenrust door me terzijde te stellen.”

Briljante lesbische liefdesgeschiedenis uit de jaren 30, geschreven in de jaren 50. Ik heb het ademloos gelezen. De spanning wordt meesterlijk opgebouwd, op meerdere vlakken: zijn ze nou? Gaan ze ooit? En dat allemaal onder de dreiging van de aanstaande oorlog. Prachtig archaïsch proza, ik ben verliefd op deze zinsopbouw die je nergens (meer?) ziet. Echt een bijzonder boek, absolute aanrader.

[tia · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5

this was soooo good! the only reason it’s not 5 stars is bc the ending landed really strangely for me. i wish bea has come to more of a conclusion about her sexuality even tho ik there were limitations of what she could say/what would be published at the time. i still feel like there could’ve been something a little more idk.

[Julia · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5⭐️

[H.Sapiens · Rating 2 out of 5]

Nie kupiła mnie ta historia.

[Frabe · Rating 3 out of 5]

Romanzo del 1954 - ma ambientato nel 1938 - recentemente "riscoperto", e dunque riproposto con enfasi... Ha per protagoniste due donne "alle prese con sentimenti e pulsioni considerati inammissibili" al tempo; l'autrice "scava nel loro animo", dice la presentazione. Preciserei: scava "confusamente". (Morale: occhio alle "riscoperte"!)